


Children of the Stars

by Hilaria_Page



Series: Children of the Stars [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 17:57:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17792078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hilaria_Page/pseuds/Hilaria_Page
Summary: Safety is a fleeting and feeble comfort for the man that is condemned. For though he often knows not the hour nor the day, he is aware that at some point his safety will be compromised and his prior transgressions will be set before him. That the time will come, in this life or the next, when he will stand bearing the full responsibility of his actions and be judged. Those who know the day their safety will be compromised will tell you that there are both positive connotations and negative connotations to that simple fact. True, you will rarely fear your shadow if you walk securely with the knowledge of the date you will be compromised. But you also walk with the countdown running in your mind haunting your thoughts as the anxiety and fear that surround the approaching weigh so heavily they break you entirely.





	1. Yet Each Mans Kills

Chapter 1:

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard

Some do it with a bitter look

Some with a flattering word

The coward does it with a kiss

The brave man with a sword”

-Oscar Wilde

* * *

 

 Safety is a fleeting and feeble comfort for the man that is condemned. For though he often knows not the hour nor the day, he is aware that at some point his safety will be compromised and his prior transgressions will be set before him. That the time will come, in this life or the next, when he will stand bearing the full responsibility of his actions and be judged. Those who know the day their safety will be compromised will tell you that there are both positive connotations and negative connotations to that simple fact. True, you will rarely fear your shadow if you walk securely with the knowledge of the date you will be compromised. But you also walk with the countdown running in your mind haunting your thoughts as the anxiety and fear that surround the approaching weigh so heavily they break you entirely.

For Peter Pettigrew the closer the day came the more often he found himself losing his nerve. Passing the second floor hall as dusk slipped into dawn contemplating what good fleeing would do him. He could flee. Easily he could grab the suitcase he prepared for himself years ago. Shrink it down to a size he could use in his animagus form and flee. Disappear into the sewers in the dead of night before the bad decisions of his past caught up with him. Each night he would go through the mental steps to prepare himself for a moonlit flee before his eyes would betray him and he would find the slightly opened door of a child who was growing up all too fast yet still to scared to sleep with in a room devoid of any light. Of a precocious child that he could not bring himself to leave. Not until he had to anyways. Usually he would end up standing in her doorway watching dreams flutter behind her pale pink eyelids as her black hair attempted to eat away at her face. Sprawled out on her back, usually with either her blanket or pillow having fallen off the bed, she looked so peaceful. He would tuck her in again or replace her head onto her pillow before retiring to his own room and fighting back the nightmare he caused himself.

This continued until the creeping date of reckoning came stilling him with fear as his eyes kept close watch on the clock. He had not broken the child's routine for the day. She had gone to school with her friends. Walked home with Emilia  and Dennis at three to change and eat a snack before rushing back outside to partake in whatever adventure she and had her group of friends had cooked up that day. He had not kept his normal schedule instead he spent the day in preparation for that evening and waiting. The day had consisted of a lot of waiting.

It was five forty three when he heard the front door being pulled open and the sound of rustling feet and clothing as the girl pulled off her over coats and winter boots. Peter pulled himself from his thoughts and set the plate he had washed no less than ten times in the past half hour down on the drying tray before grabbing the previously brewed tea tray and laid it on the living room table.

“Afternoon Uncle Peter” the girl said, the sentence held a calm melodic gaunt as she moved to offer the man a customary bear hug. She closed her eyes and leaned into the the embrace for the quickest of seconds. A small stone sunk Peter’s gut all the more seeing as it was a habit the girl fell to when she was excited or happy. Sensing an undercurrent of nervous energy coming from her Uncle the girl pulled away looking up at him with a concerned glance. “Is everything alright, you look like death warmed up?”

At her inquiry Peter found him nerve dissolve and instead of blurting out the truth, as he had planned too, he ended up just nodding and making up some excuse about being under the weather to placate the girls questioning pale gray glare. At his half baked excuse the girl's face feel back into one of pure joy, lit up by a smile that seemed to extend much farther than her cheeks would allow. As the girl began to tell  her honorary uncle about her day, and the huge cat that still kept following her around, Peter swallowed the lump, the size of a ping pong ball in his throat.

While Aurora babbled on about the unfair science fair rulings and her teachers ‘complete and utter bias against anyone who makes something other than a coat hanger solar system’. Peter nodded and made verbal sounds of understanding at all the appropriate times. Taking in this last of their positive interaction, he heated some leftover vegetable soup from the weekend before. He personally did not could stomach much more at the moment.

While Aurora continued her daily anecdote though her jovial tone and smile fell slightly more at each of her uncles not-verbal hums of understanding. Especially as her antidote for the day finished and she began to go into the stories she knew the man had heard before, fully expecting him to comment, and frowning outright when he did not. Aurora was a smart girl, she knew that something was bugging her Uncle. Something deep enough that his magic itself felt different. Offering yet another half hearted excuse Peter shooed her off to set the table while he finished up the soup.

“You know you can tell me if something is wrong Uncle Peter, I am practically eleven now. That is a very grown up age you know. I am practically an adult.” Aurora said trying to get the man to laugh as she set out the table settings before filling both of their glasses with chilled lemon water.

“Your a far ways from grown up Rors,” He said though his voice did not hold the chuckle Aurora was hoping it would. He sat down both bowls of food. After a good quarter hour of both Aurora and himself clanking their spoons against the bowl in an effort to convince the other party they were eating. Neither was very good at it however and as a quarter hour turned into a half hour neither even bothered to keep up the pretense of eating.

“Why don’t you go wash up and get ready for bed Rory, I will make us some tea and biscuits. We need to talk,” Peter said finally ending the tense silence of the dinner table. With a questioning gaze the girl ascended the staircase to do as asked. While she was upstairs Peter busied himself with making the tea and mentally through what he was going to say one last time all the while trying to keep his eyes from the analogue clock in the corner.

Seeing as his mind was so occupied on so many different things Peter ended up burning the tea in the kettle and adding salt instead of sugar into the tea. Not that he noticed either of these things as he did them. All to fast Aurora was back on the ground floor landing, hair washed and combed dressed in her purple nightgown that was no less than two sizes too big for her compact bony frame. Peter motioned toward the living room before following after the girl with the tea tray. Setting everything down and handing the girl her tea and bringing his own to his mouth. As Peter took his first sip his hand flew up too his mouth as he tried to not spit up the burnt salty tasting tea. Aurora looked up at him questionably as he swallowed down the disgusting liquid.

“Never mind on the tea.” Peter said placing both his cup and Aurora’s cup back on the table before sitting back against the couch with a sigh. Aurora’s gaze had turned from questioning to something bordering on

“I need you to listen to me very carefully. This is not the easiest thing to explain. But I have decided that you need to hear this from me and not from any one else.” Despite the brevity of his tale the broken breaths and long pauses caused this small speech taking up quite a bit of time. Aurora nodded throughout each broken sentence as fear crept further and further into her chest. Aurora could not fight her body as it curled up onto itself in a one person hug of sorts.  

“I have not been  entirely truthful with you about the past… I wanted to keep you safe, to keep you innocent, to keep my little Rory from growing up too fast.” His hand moved to bush back a lock of  hair that had formed in a rare perfect curl from the girl's face. At his movement Aurora pulled back and her eyes fell to fiddle with her pant leg. Eyes purposefully staying away from his own.

He would be lying if he did not admit to having expected as much. Aurora had always been particularly interested in her mother and his own past. Always having at least a handful questions to quiz Peter on every fortnight. Questions that ranged from what her Mum’s given name was all the way to questions on his opinion about social predestination by way of Hogwarts Houses. Sprinkled somewhere in the middle where thousands of questions about the war that she believed had sent them into hiding because of reasons much different from what actually had Peter hiding in a Muggle town with his tail between his legs.

He had lied quite a bit when she asked those questions. Lied about the war and his thoughts on it. Lied about her father and how much her Mum loved him. Lied about how the wizarding world would react to a child like Aurora. His lies were not something he was proud of to begin with. But his shame seemed to grow the longer he watched her cheery disposition morph into one of pain.

“Please Aurora, just let me explain.”

“My friends and I… We were so sure, so proud, Gryffindors to the core. We joined the resistance practically two months before we even graduated. Participated in resistance measures long before even then. We were young and we were invincible. Or so we thought. Then your Mum's family home was destroyed her parents and siblings killed and she was just gone.” A sole tear slipped from his eye as he took a breath to try and calm himself.

“The order barely searched before everyone just gave up on her. Before her friends gave up. The people I thought I could trust the most just walked away from her. Even your father.” The word father was spat as if it were the worst sort of curse word Peter could imagine.

“My father….”

“He gave up on her. On you. One bloody raid and he forgot about everything he said he loved. Took off his ring and just pretended like she had never existed, like you never existed.” Peter continued as if Aurora had not even spoken anger filling his tone and propelling his words foreword.

“His ring, they were….. You said he didn’t know, that he didn’t care to know, that it was…” Aurora’s breath hitched. “You said he abandoned my Mum…..”

“He did abandon her, he abandoned you. He wouldn’t do anything to help.”

“How could he have known?” Aurora voice was loud filled with betrayal. Peter did not stop however, he just pushed on.

“I knew she was still alive, I could feel it. I could feel her. So I acted. I approached someone who I knew was on the darker side of the war. Begged and pleaded for them to make me a spy so I could get behind enemy lines. They did, they needed a spy in the resistance that was close to my friends and I was the perfect choice. I thought myself a right clever bloke. It wasn't long before I found your mum in one of the dungeons of one of their many headquarters. Bruised and bloody, but she still had you. Merlin, I almost just snatched her and ran but they found me. Found me and forced my hand too submit to their leader and get the mark he used to control them. I turned to the resistance leader. Told him and he offered to use me as a sort of spy for the resistance. To give him the information that I could, to train me in ways to protect my brain so that the leader could not force my hand in action.  In the end no one needed to force my hand at all. Most of the time I was not given a second thought. Put on task to recruit my friends and brushed aside. Then there was a prophecy made, silly really. It should not have matter since deviation is weak magic on its own and making prophecies is even weaker but…” as Peter’s voice died out Aurora found her own.

“The leader, he believed in it,”

“He did, and his belief gave it power. It spoke of an infant born at the end of July who had some unknown power that he could use to defeat the leader. There were two possible babies. Both members of the order. One I knew only in passing. They were nice, kind people, but… the other family….”

“Harry Potter,” Aurora said her voice low enough that Peter knew she thought him unable to hear it. Peter had never meant to tell Aurora of the Potter boy. He meant to keep him hidden as well. But then one of Aurora’s friends went to Hogwarts and that horrible Halloween had found its way into the magical history Aurora knew.

“I tried to make him go after the first boy. Pushed and pushed the fact that it had to be him. That since Harry was a Half-Blood even the thought of it being him would be useless but my protests fell on deaf ears. There was another man who bargained for the life of Lily, Harry’s mum, he fancied himself in love with her and begged she be spared. Soon he turned to me, finally his spy in the order had use. I was used to exploit my friendships. Too sow seeds of distrust until I was given the information needed. Harry’s parents knew about the prophecy, and where to hide under a charm that made them impossible to find that used one person as a secret keeper. This charm hid them to all who did not know how to find them by way of their secret keeper.”

“You where their secret keeper, you told the Dark Lord, you killed Potter’s parents.”


	2. Advertise my Loyalty

“I used to advertise my loyalty and I don't believe there is a single person I loved that I didn't eventually betray.”   
― Albert Camus

* * *

“You where their secret keeper, you told the Dark Lord, you killed Harry’s parents.” Aurora was on her feet and slowly backing away.  

“Yes.But…” He said setting his own tea down and grabbing on to her shoulders. Though his grip was not exceedingly restrictive it gave the threat that it could be, Aurora tried her damnedest to pull away. Nails scratching at his arms to get him to pull back.

“Let go of me! You… You’re….” The girl was now choking back sobs as she thrashed.

“Aurora,please stop fighting me. There is more to the story.”

“More than you murdering your friends!”

“Yes” His voice was sharp, commanding, the same tone he normally used when Aurora's adventures in the woods became too dangerous for his liking. Aurora stopped fighting the man. Eyes blown in something akin to horror. Her hands fell to her sides. Peter released her arms and sat back down on the couch. He motioned for her to sit as well but she turned her head from him. It took a few moments before Peter accepted she would not face him and continued.

“James’ had a friend Sirius Black, he must have checked on me that night. I don’t know how he would have figured it all out so quickly if he didn’t. We weren’t that far from James’ house when he found me, but the village was muggle. I was in a crowded alley trying to go unnoticed. But he was always a brash, hard headed, and often overconfident bugger. And the Potter’s, why, they were  closer to him than his own family.” Peter explained watching as Aurora’s back tensed with each sentence. “He started screaming that I betrayed them. That I killed them.”

“You did.” The words were soft. But they were spoken with a venom that  made Peter pause.

“I know,” He said before shaking his head. “But that night, with everything that had already happened, all that I had seen…. I wasn’t ready to face what I had done yet. So I spooked, everyone believed Sirius to be the secret keeper for the Potters, he was a scapegoat that was put in place by them to make sure I would be safe.”

“Ironic” Aurora whispered under her breath.

“So I turned the blame on him and raised my wand. He was always a faster spell caster than me. He sent a weak blasting hex, trying to catch my feet and stop me, but I reacted before it even hit and sent a much stronger one. The two collided and exploded the alley way. The explosion itself killed thirteen muggles. It all looked so bloody, the screams so loud, and the smell was putrid. I knew I couldn’t stay. So I cut my finger off as to fake my own death and ran to the sewers in my animagus form.” He said before his gaze finally broke and he released his arms from her shoulders. He lifted his hand to show his missing index finger on his right hand.

“That night I hid, when morning broke I regrouped and made a plan. I would turn myself in. But first, I had to get your Mum if it was not too late. I used my animagus form to get around the guards that still protected the dungeon during the chaos. Everyone was scrambled, and appreciating her was easy enough in the broken wards. I took her to a muggle hospital that was close by. She was too weak to last through the childbirth. She was conscious when they wheeled her back, voice scared as she begged me get your father and bring him to her. But I couldn’t. So instead I paced the hospital for two hours. I don’t think my hands stopped shaking until the Doctor came out of the operating room and told me that you had been born but they couldn't save your mum. You were so small, they didn't let me hold you because they said you were too little and too sick. You were fighting for each breath your skin red and irritated and your lips the sheerest shade of blue because you weren't getting enough oxygen. You were in a side room hooked up to a bunch of wires and surrounded by a clear cage like box that looked more like torture devices than any form of healing medicine I knew. But merlin's beard, you were perfect. So innocent, and here I was a murderer. When morning broke I pulled myself from your side and apperated to the ministry. The building was in chaos. Transforming too my animagus form to travel easier I moved to turn myself in. I would accept my punishment after telling them where you where. Telling your father where he could find you. I was almost there when I heard it.”

“Heard what.” The words were inaudible as the girl began to morph her face in a weak attempt not to begin crying.

“A man was talking about Sirius, saying the Aurors had captured him in the alley. How they found him amidst a psychotic break. How they did not even give him a trial before sending him to Azkaban to the dementors for the punishment a traitor deserved.”

“What punishment,”

“A dementor's kiss. Horrible things they are. Suck the soul right from your body. I ran before anyone saw me. Returned to you. Worked to make myself better for your benefit, to raise you as your Mum would have wanted.” Aurora felt as if the world was spinning on its head. Her breathing was swallowing her pulse quickening as her body slowly sent itself into a panic attack.

“Aurora,” his voice dipped into a whisper. “Aurora, breathe” His hand lowered to touch her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” The girl screamed, the statement was followed by a burst of accidental magic that had Peter and the couch on the other side of the room in seconds.

“Just answer me one thing. Why after wouldn’t you still tell my father. Saving your self had nothing to do with doing right by me.”

“I did do right by you.”

“No you didn’t. You kidnapped me.”

“No I didn’t, I didn’t kidnap you. I saved you. He wasn’t fit.”  

“How is that for you do decide!”

“I protected you.”  

“You were who I needed protection from.”

“I kept you safe.” Half way too gasping for air the girl bit down hard on her bottom lip until she could feel the tears build up in her eyes.

“Safe from what, from a war that has long since been ended, from _murderers_ and _death eaters_ .” Her words were venomous and her tone was low. It was a speech pattern that her father used to frequent in his anger.  “No matter your reasons, that is exactly what _you_ are.” Came the long awaited outburst as she ran out of the living room and out of the front door. Peter just bent forward resting his hands and wondered if there was any way this conversation could have gone worse. 


End file.
